The Dangerous Animals Club is not exactly a Southern Baptist preachery kind of book. Drugs, alcohol, nakedness, and the kinds of things that accompany drugs, alcohol and nakedness. And yet, this is a funny and enjoyable book that I am glad I read.

Stephen Tobolowsky is a master storyteller – interesting, funny, polished, and insightful. I wish I could get him to come to Sunday afternoon lunch so we could drink sweet tea and trade stories back and forth across the kitchen table.

Before Tobolowsky was that Hollywood actor that everyone recognizes but no one knows his name, he was a good ol’ North Texas boy. And, many of his stories include that North Texas dimension; water moccasin throwing, tarantula hunting, driving naked through Dallas, coping with strange SMU professors, — you know, routine North Texan life. Then, he moves on to talk about racoons in the attic, bull-fighting, Jewish mysticism, quantum physics, — you know, routine Hollywood life.

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And now, a short note to Tobolowsky, himself.

Tobo, I know you will never read this, but just in case, I wanted to let you know that I am actively thinking about those important four people in my life. Thanks for the stimulus.

KS

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And, here are a few quotes from the book:

DON’T ASK ME, “How are the kids?” I never have any idea. I know they eat and get dressed and go to school, but as to what is going on in their lives and in their heads, forget it. It is the secret world: the world that every child has and that no parent gets to see. Ann and I are active parents. We try to meet all of our kids’ friends and their parents and ask questions and look under the bed, and check in the closets, tap their phones— but we still don’t know the various deals with Satan they may make when they leave the house. We’re not unique. Every parent is in the dark. (p. 1)

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Her face changed as most women’s do when they listen to their men: from amusement to horror to incomprehensibility. (p. 15)

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It’s funny how much trust we put in science when its track record throughout history has been so bad. The problem is that science not only tries to describe the observable, like the tides and the height of mountains, but also the unobservable. (p. 59)

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Hob was a true academic and consequently no one could understand what he was talking about. (p. 170)

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“If I am not for myself, who is? If I am for myself alone, what am I? And if not now, when?” ~ Rabbi Hillel (p. 175)

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Fairly or unfairly, many people are tried in life. The mistake people make is that they think the trial is a sign of failure. It’s not. It’s only a doorway that leads to who you really are. (p. 182)

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It is difficult to define what men look for in women and what women look for in men. One thing is for certain: it’s not the same thing. (p. 213)

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All of this time I had only known Hob as a sort of academe to the third power: a man who would never call a spade a spade when he could call it a partially conical metal digging implement used primarily in recreational agriculture. (p. 230)

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“The reason you can’t get a handle on life is because it’s not a bucket.” (p. 239)

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The “yeah, but” is the way we have developed to diminish our own lives into footnotes. To demoralize, trivialize, and squander the greatest gift we have been given— the joy of watching the sun rise for another day, even if it is only to have the opportunity to fail. (p. 240)

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As a rule in life, if you want to feel thin, hang out with fat people. If you want to feel better about your prospects, talk to friends who are worse off than you. (p. 241)

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There is almost nothing more powerful than the current of unhappiness. It can carry you far away. It can separate friends and family. It can even separate you from yourself. (p. 242)

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Determination is often mistaken for purpose. Usually it is only a sign of a lack of imagination. (p. 289)

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I have never been to a psychiatrist…. It’s hard to find a good one. There are so many bad ones, and to get the name of a good one you have to ask friends who go to psychiatrists and they’re usually crazy. (p. 291)

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It’s amazing how comforting the simple things were— like trees, or a mountain, or snow. When I turned my attention from my own pain to look at the amazing world around me, I started feeling better. I was rediscovering the miracle of my own life. (pp. 297-298)

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When I was addicted to cocaine several years later, a dealer told me something important. He said addiction is not just made up of the time you spend getting high. It is also made up of the time you spend thinking about drugs, earning money to buy drugs, and driving around trying to find drugs. (p. 332)

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Our life isn’t necessarily measured by what we accumulate, but how we spend our time. There is a pressure to value achievement by focusing on the finish line. I often think more praise should be bestowed on those who make sure we’re starting at the right place. (p. 332)